


A Mostly Decent Proposal

by fictorium



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Cake, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:12:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: Kara really wants this amazing cake, you guys.





	A Mostly Decent Proposal

Kara tries everything. She drops Cat’s name. Lena’s name. _Supergirl’s_ name _._  The snotty publicist turns her down each time with increasing relish. 

“The tastings are for engaged couples only, _Miss_ Danvers.”

And it’s not like she doesn’t try Alex. It’s maybe a little insensitive to ask given that Maggie hasn’t exactly given an answer to the spur-of-the-moment proposal yet, but dammit Kara is feeling sorry for herself. Now the best cake on the entire West Coast is being kept from her by the sad fact of being single.

Not that she would have married Mon-El. Honestly it had been effort enough to teach him to chew with his mouth closed. But it had been less lonely, less Kara left behind, less table for one and going to bed early and alone. 

She posts to Facebook in desperation, hoping Winn or James will volunteer to play her fake fiancé and grab one of the exclusive tasting appointments. There’s only four left today, and Kara wants one with a need that’s bordering on obsession. 

Before anyone can reply and save the day, a text from Cat arrives. 

_Assistant AWOL. Have my car out front in 5. Meet me there._

Great. Now she’s getting roped back into assistant duties, meaning she probably can’t make it to the boutique bakery before the last slot anyway. She’d been planning on last resort showing up in full Supergirl mode in the hope they’d bend the rules in person. 

Still. It’s really nice to have Cat back. It’s been the one bright spot in crappy few weeks. Kara summons the duty driver and packs up her purse. She takes the stairs with a little super speed, a quick way to vent some of her pent-up frustration. It’s distracting enough being around Cat, especially since her return from the Himalayas. 

There’s something looser in her posture, a softness in her eyes that Kara can’t quite identify. The snappishness is largely gone from her tone, and even her perfume is subtly different. Kara keeps meaning to ask what the change - something custom and expensive no doubt, but it lingers with her in a way the scent never did before. 

It’s the first thing Kara notices when Cat slips into the backseat beside her. Notepad and pen at the ready, Kara is waiting for a barrage of instructions. She doesn’t mind covering for Eve, not really. Only the orders never come. Cat pulls her sunglasses off and jabs at her phone a few times, but the car rolls out into the afternoon traffic without a word passing between them.

Eventually Kara can’t stand the suspense. They’re heading into WeNa, the neighborhood that houses the bakery she’s fixating on, and it reminds her that there’s a chance if she can get whatever Cat needs quickly.

“So how can I help Ms Grant?” Kara suppresses a groan as they turn onto 10th Street. So close. So painfully close. “Is it a meeting? Or something to collect?”

“I’m helping you, Kara.”

Well. At least the Keira thing has dried up again. No doubt there’s an incoming lecture about how Cat taking her on this errand will improve Kara’s career prospects. No frosting, no impossibly moist sponge. Maybe tonight she can console herself with some of that British baking show, or maybe that will just make the sulk worse. Rao, can’t Kara have one thing go her way lately?

“You don’t have to tell me,” Kara decides, but just as she gets comfortable the car pulls into a side street and a small private parking lot behind a brick building that’s naggingly familiar. 

“Come along,” Cat announces, getting out and actually waiting for Kara to follow. Before they reach the door that’s not even marked, Cat comes to a halt and stops Kara by sticking out her arm. “Wait.”

So Kara does. Cat fumbles in her Prada clutch with a frown gracing her features, picking out something and then discarding it, before finally settling on something else. 

“Here.” She thrusts a piece of jewelry at Kara. An earring? It sparkles in the afternoon sunshine. Maybe they’re getting something repaired. No, it’s definitely a ring. Kara accepts it in her palm, not sure quite what the hell is happening. A diamond ring. Not a small diamond either. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Put it on,” Cat hisses. “It’s from my second - no, third - engagement, when I was pregnant with Carter. The puffiness might mean it’s big enough for your chunky knuckles.”

“I do _not_  have chunky knuckles!” Kara protests. “Why are you giving me this.”

“You want the _life-changing cake of amazingness_ ,” Cat quotes her Facebook post back to her. When the hell did she accept Cat as a friend? “And when not even my name got you a slot, I told them that I was bringing my fiancée. So chop, chop.”

Kara doesn’t know what else to do. She slips the ring on to her wedding finger, and just in time too. The door opens and that publicist with her grating voice is fawning all over Cat. Oh if only she’d known, and is this an exclusive on announcing the engagement, and does Cat need anyone on her PR team? Kara glares, but then Cat is linking her arm through Kara’s as though they do it every day.

The next hour is a fever dream, like the lovechild of Black Mercy and Silver Kryptonite. There are varieties of cake that Kara has never dreamed of, chocolate richer than anything she’s ever put in her mouth before. Adventures through pistachio and delicate orange and rosehip, to the zing of lemon or goopy strawberry fillings. 

Then there’s the touching. Cat, ever the professional, is really selling the fiancée thing. At one point Kara almost faints dead away, because Cat is feeding cake to her with a silver fork. There’s a caress to the upper arm here and there, as much holding hands as they can manage around all the pieces of cake to juggle, and at one point Cat wipes a smear of frosting away with her thumb. Joining in, Kara presses a silly kiss to the pad of Cat’s thumb, making her jump just a little when the publicist fawns over what a cute couple they make.

If any substance on Earth can make Kara feel giddy, it’s an excess of sugar. By the time she staggers towards the exit, Cat is practically holding her up. It’s only when they’re back in the privacy of the car, privacy screen practically dragged into place, that Kara gets a grip of herself.

“That was... that was better than Disney. I feel like I just had my own Willy Wonka day. Why... Ms Grant, why did you do that? Oh gosh, I should give you back this ring.”

As Kara tries to pull it back off her finger, the damn thing refuses to budge. Okay, she didn’t eat _that_  much cake. 

“Hmm?” Cat responds, or doesn’t really. She has her sunglasses back on, even though they’re in the car with its tinted windows. 

“Why did you fix that for me?” Kara demands. She has nothing to lose at this point. “You’ve been so busy since you came back.”

“Because,” Cat sighs, turning her head away from Kara. “Just because.”

“That’s not an answer.” The ring comes free, and she tries to hand it over. The gold band is only slightly dented by her super strength. 

“Because... you’ve been moping,” Cat explains. “Not directly in my line of sight like last week, but it’s all anyone talks about. I was made aware of your social media whining, and I decided to take action. I don’t know why your friends haven’t.”

“You’re my friend, too,” Kara insists. “Or should I say fiancée?”

“You might want to put that ring back on,” Cat turns back, pulling her glasses off and looking Kara dead in the eye. “The story has already broken thanks to our gossipy friend back there. We’ll ride it out for a little while, then quietly call it off.”

“Uh...”

“Oh you’ll survive the embarrassment. Honestly.”

“Embarrassment?” Kara doesn’t understand. “No, I just meant usually you take someone on a date before proposing. Or maybe you don’t. I mean, you’ve been married four times, maybe you have to rush the process.”

Cat’s actually stunned into silence for a moment by that. Kara feels oddly proud.

“Date?” She repeats. 

“Sure,” Kara sees puzzle pieces slotting together in her mind, two years of denial and a few months of misery finally clearing into one perfect solution. “Maybe no dessert though. That was a lot to live up to. Unless you think us dating is inappropriate?”

“Inappropriate is the noises you make when tasting sinfully good cake,” Cat corrects. “I’m going to be dreaming about you and frosting for a week.”

Kara leans in, emboldened by the lustful drag of Cat’s gaze. She kisses Cat tenderly, knowing she must taste like icing and joy. “Well, chop, chop,” Kara teases. “Get a move on with that date and you won’t just have to dream it.”

“You’re every bit as tempting as those ridiculous baked goods.” Cat initiates the kiss this time, pushing Kara back against the seat and straddling her lap. 

“And you gave in back there for vanilla frosting,” Kara reminds her. “So what does that make me?”

“Shut up or I won’t marry you,” Cat teases, tangling her fingers in Kara’s hair. 

“That’s a pretty small club.” Kara kisses her again, before she gets in _too_ much trouble. They’re going to have to deal with this seriously, back at the office and outside of this car. But right now? There’s just Cat, a sugar high, and really incredible kissing. 

As cures for sadness go? It’s fast becoming her favorite. 

 

 


End file.
